These Bonds We've Forged
by Sentimental Star
Summary: Human and Elf, mortal and immortal, Gondor's King and Mirkwood's Prince—perhaps it was not so inevitable that they became friends, after all…EDIT: CH. 4 Posted! -Book and Moviebased-
1. Prophecy of the Twain

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing in this marvelous universe, it all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

 _ **Dedication:**_ To _SilverArashi_ , because she requested a re-post of this story. Hope you enjoy ::grins::!

 _ **Note:**_ It's been several years since I last forayed into the _LotR_ fandom. _SilverArashi_ sent me a lovely PM a few days ago, requesting I re-post this beloved relic of mine from the days when the _LotR_ trilogy releases were the hottest anticipated movies of the year. This prologue is new, an as-yet-unposted chapter in Legolas and Aragorn's story, courtesy of my muse and the wonderful _phoenixqueen_ 's encouragement and awesome beta skills. I can't promise I will update this, once I get to the end of the story's current set of chapters, but I will most likely revise and edit these chapters (but not too much, rest assured!) as I go, in an attempt to assuage my writer's conscience ::winks::. Please enjoy your revisit and my trip down nostalgia lane!

 _ **Rating:**_ T

 _ **Summary:**_ Human and Elf, mortal and immortal, Gondor's King and Mirkwood's Prince—perhaps it was not so inevitable that they became friends, after all…(Book and Moviebased)

' _ **Sindarin (Elvish)'**_

" _ **Westron (Common Speech)"**_

 _ **Personal Thoughts (Italics)**_

 _These Bonds We've Forged_

 _By Sentimental Star_

 **Prologue : Prophecy of the Twain**

(During the Watchful Peace)

Taking the vase of _mithril_ and dipping it into the water, she filled it to the brim. Stepping soundlessly over to the Mirror, she poured the clear water of the fountain into the basin. When the basin was full and the vase empty, she set the vase on the ground at her feet and bowed her head over the basin.

He had often seen her thus: his beloved wife gazing into her Mirror. Scrying. Attempting to decipher the future if she thought it would be of any help.

He knew not what drew her here on this night, to her private gardens. Many of her ways still remained mysterious—even to him who had spent over half his life thus far with her. But he loved her enough to trust to those ways, as inscrutable as they were.

This night, as far as he could tell, was not unusual. Stars sprinkled the evening sky, their glow comforting and familiar. No clouds darkened Elbereth's banner, and no visible moon traversed the heavens, for the moon was at the beginning of its new cycle. The wind was gentle, barely rustling the golden leaves of the Mallorn trees in the woods of Lothlórien and Eärendil shone brightly overhead. Very brightly. _Ah_ , he observed, _what does the Skyfarer wish her to see tonight?_

For Galadriel, Lady of Light and his wife, had taken a deep breath and was carefully centering herself, gazing upon the Mirror's shimmering surface.

Celeborn did feel somewhat apprehensive, though. As wonderful and awe-inspiring as her Mirror was, it was also dangerous. Even one as strong as she could be pulled deeply into the Mirror's depths and become lost among the images that swirled therein.

As her silent husband watched on, the Elven Queen of Lórien stared unblinkingly into the Mirror. Its clear transparency changed into silver opaqueness and pictures began to emerge:

In a voice not her own, Galadriel began to speak:

' _A Shadow grows in the East. Bred from the borders of the White City, it spreads, swallowing the lands of the Horsemen, the Treeherders, the Singers, Aulë's Children, and the Little Folk. None on Arda shall escape it._

' _In the wake of the Shadow, Two of Nine Walkers shall emerge, birthed from wombs of Light._

' _Two hearts bound as one. Two races and two hearts. One bond. Forged by brotherhood's fire, purified in love and loyalty's waters, shadows will flee before it, and with it, these twain—one to teach, one to lead—shall erase all borders._

' _Six other Walkers shall follow. Seventh will be a Maia, though his light be waning. Nine all told shall be Walking, though only Eight shall pass the borders of the Golden Realm._

' _Walkers Nine—fear not the Shadow, so long as you remain true to one another._

' _Hope and Greenleaf—fear not Ilúvatar's final Gift to Man, so long as your hearts' desires align._ '

Coming out of her trance, Lady Galadriel found Lord Celeborn quietly watching her from across the Mirror. Only her husband's face betrayed his astonishment.

Galadriel wove unsteadily on her feet, her slim hand going up to touch her forehead.

Eyeing his wife's wearied state, the Elvenking glided around the basin set on its stone pedestal and gently took her arm. It was a few moments before either spoke, but when Celeborn did, he kept his voice soft, 'Galadriel, for whom did you prophesy those words?'

His eyes were intent.

She slowly massaged her forehead, 'I-I know not. Celeborn, I saw their faces but I…I cannot remember…'

He studied her quietly, before slipping his arm around her back and helping her away from her Mirror's secluded glade. 'Come,' he murmured, 'you need rest. Would you recognize their faces were you to gaze upon them?'

'I…I believe so, but…' she began.

Celeborn glanced at her, his concern edging up slightly. He had never seen Galadriel so tired before. That a prophecy had rendered her this exhausted spoke volumes of its strength.

He had not the same foresight his wife did, but he could tell, if the prophecy was indeed true, that it would shake Arda to her very foundations.

 _Tbc._


	2. Homecoming

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not, nor ever will, own the Lord of the Rings, Aragorn, Legolas, or any of the other familiar characters or ideas. J.R.R. Tolkein happens to own those treasures.

 _ **Note:**_ Here is the first actual chapter of _These Bonds We've Forged_ , written so very many years ago, but updated since. I plan to post one or two of these chapters (revised and edited to some degree, though not taking away from the original spirit of the story, I hope!) per week or every other week, as I find the time. Please enjoy them!

 _ **Rating:**_ T/M

 _ **Summary:**_ Human and Elf, mortal and immortal, Gondor's King and Mirkwood's Prince—perhaps it was not so inevitable that they became friends, after all…(Book and Moviebased)

' _ **Sindarin (Elvish)**_ _'_

 _ **Personal Thoughts (Italics)**_

" _ **Westron/Common Speech**_ _"_

 _.:These Bonds We've Forged:._

 _By Sentimental Star_

 **Chapter One : Homecoming**

-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-

 _Even in the darkest of shadows a light gleams._

-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-

(Evening, Imladris, TA 3018)

"You wished to see me, _Ada_?" Aragorn inquired respectfully of his adopted father, entering the gently lit study.

Elrond, Lord of Imladris, bearer of Vilya—one of those Three Rings oft spoke of in legend—looked up from where he had been sorting through the parchments on his desk and smiled a brilliant greeting to his human son. "My Estel, welcome home!" he exclaimed, standing and sweeping forward to embrace Aragorn who returned it at once.

As he pulled away a few moments later, Elrond noticed that his Human son looked rather rumpled. And he had a very good idea why…

A grin lit his typically composed and stern features once more, softening them in a way that precious few others, aside from those he considered family, saw. "I take it your brothers have already greeted you," the half-Elven Lord remarked, chuckling.

Aragorn grinned wryly, remembering Elven Prince Legolas Greenleaf's shocked expression when he first witnessed Elrond's hidden mirth. It had been priceless. Rolling his eyes, he snickered, "Greeted? They _tackled_ me, _Ada_!"

Elrond laughed outright. "Of course they did." A moment later, the Noldor Elf sobered, "You have been gone far too long, _ion-nin_. Had I not full faith in your ability to take care of yourself, I would have sent out search parties weeks ago. As it is, Elladan has pressed me these past few days to do so." He smiled wistfully at the Ranger. "I do believe none of us have quite accepted the fact that you are grown and can protect yourself without our aid, even though you have done so for many years."

" _A_ _da_ …" Aragorn started, meaning to reassure and apologize, resting his hand on the wise lord's arm.

He knew of the grief and fear he must have caused his Elven family members when he had not returned over six months later than originally planned, but numerous things had occurred within that span of time, and Orcs, Ringwraiths, and Hobbits with Rings weren't to be taken lightly. Especially since he had promised Mithrandir to watch over and guard Frodo Baggins and his companions at least as far as Rivendell.

Were they to travel further, he would still accompany them. Whether they would or not, however, remained to be seen. Elrond had called for a Council as soon as Frodo was able. There, the final decision would be made. Samwise "Sam" Gamgee and Mithrandir were with him now where he lay unconscious in the infirmary.

" _Ada_ ," he repeated tenderly, automatically switching over to Sindarin. 'I will be all right, I promise. I _am_ all right. See.' He spread out his arms, welcoming and open, expectantly watching his Elven father's face.

'And I thank the stars for that,' Elrond whispered in the same tongue, stepping forward without hesitation to pull the man close to him once more. _And Legolas_ , he thought privately, but did not tell his son. 'You and your brothers…how I survived all those years I shall never know.'

Aragorn laughed, resting his head against the Peredhil's shoulder and letting his father hold him. 'Actually, I distinctly remember several occasions where I could have said the same of you.'

Elrond quirked an eyebrow at his youngest son. 'Do you now? You shall have to refresh my memory later.'

Aragorn grinned tiredly. 'If Legolas heard that I know exactly what he would say,' he murmured.

Elrond rolled his eyes. 'I somehow doubt it, ion-nin. He is far too polite, unlike certain sons I could name. Sometimes I wonder where all those etiquette lessons went wrong.'

Aragorn laughed, 'When Erestor decided to hand over that particular duty to Glorfindel, I imagine. You couldn't have picked a better swordsmaster, Ada, but a councilor he is not.'

'He is an Elven Lord in his own right, Estel, far more powerful once than I, but I suppose you may be right. He never _did_ enjoy all the duties that went with it, as I understand it,' the Peredhil responded, hiding his smile.

His Human son released another soft laugh, 'Somehow that does not surprise me.'

Elrond watched his mortal child fondly, so very glad to have him home again, and even happier to know there soon would be yet another young one returned home. Though many years had passed, Mirkwood's Crown Prince still remained a well-loved guest in his household, especially so by Aragorn, who had formed a bond with him that sometimes ran even deeper than the one he shared with his Elven brothers.

He knew why, of course (or at least partially), the prophecy made by his mother-in-law never far from his mind when he watched the two princes together, but he also knew what the Elven Prince meant to his human son and what Aragorn meant to the prince.

The man had not seen his friend, or so he thought, in at least two years. But what Aragorn did not know was that when he had been injured by Orcs about six months ago, Legolas—whom upon hearing of his best friend's disappearance had been unable to sit by and wait for news—had set off in search of him. He had found him, and taken him to the Halls of Healing in Gondor, when they were blissfully unaware that the re-awakened threat of Sauron was so close.

The Silvan Elf had wanted to remain with the Dúnadan while he healed, as he explained in a message sent to Elrond from his own father's house in Mirkwood, but King Thranduil had summoned him home a week into Aragorn's recovery to help defend their people against the minions of Dol Guldur, as he had for many hundreds of years.

His human son knew none of this and it did not matter anymore for the present. Legolas was coming to Rivendell this very evening. He and another, this one a Man of Gondor, had been spotted a mere league away from the gate, riding horses. They would be here soon and Elrond had planned it as a surprise for his son. Not the Man, although he also was important, but Legolas. He had specifically requested the Silvan Elf be allowed to come to Rivendell for both the Council and, perhaps just as important, to visit with Aragorn. He feared his human son had a long, difficult journey ahead of him, for his destiny was drawing nigh. And if he knew anything about Legolas, as soon as the prince understood what lay at stake, he would go wherever Aragorn went. That was Elrond's only comfort.

His arms must have tightened because he immediately felt Aragorn's eyes upon him. 'Ada?' came the tentative question, muffled against the lord's shoulder.

'Yes?' Elrond responded, leaning back slightly so he could look into the Ranger's eyes.

'I love you. I always have and I always will. No matter what happens that will not change,' came the fiercely whispered statement.

Elrond blinked at him a moment, utterly startled, before his gaze softened with deep fondness. 'Your Elven name serves you well, Estel.'

Aragorn grinned up at his father. 'I know.'

 _Tbc._

 _ **Elven Translations**_

 _Ada_ : Father (shortened from _Adar_ )

 _Estel:_ Hope, a name given to Aragorn by Elrond to conceal his identity

 _Ion-nin:_ My son

 _Mithrandir_ : Gandalf (Elven name)


	3. Joy and Jest

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not, nor ever will, own Lord of the Rings, its characters, or its ideas; that marvelous universe belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

 _ **Note:**_ Sorry for the hang up regarding updates—life happened ::sweatdrop::. I'm posting the next two chapters (with some minor revisions). I hope you enjoy them!

 _ **Rating:**_ T/M

 _ **Summary:**_ Human and Elf, mortal and immortal, Gondor's King and Mirkwood's Prince—perhaps it was not so inevitable that they became friends, after all…-Book and Moviebased-

' _ **Sindarin (Elvish)**_ _'_

 _/_ _ **Personal Thoughts**_ _/_

" _ **Westron/Common Speech**_ _"_

 _.:These Bonds We've Forged:._

 _By Sentimental Star_

 _ **Chapter Two** **:** **Joy and Jest**_

(Half an Hour Later)

Aragorn stood in the front courtyard of his Elven father's house, deeply breathing in the cool evening air and lost in thought where he stood at the tip of a gentle slope. The flowers of the heather plant swarmed it in the spring and summer months and the last of the late bloomers still remained. The slope itself fell gradually until it leveled off into a plain—heather dotted it hither and thither, rustling in the slight breezes which wafted through Rivendell.

This was his favorite spot to come and think—out of sight of the windows and obscured by a scrim of trees. Few knew of this place; at any rate, the only other living being he had shown it to was Legolas, although he did sometimes wonder if Elrond or the twins came here.

Legolas.

He had not seen the Elven Prince in two years. They had exchanged frequent messages from their last meeting, right up until the time Aragorn left on one of his many journeys to capture Gollum for Mithrandir, but they had not seen each other since, and that last message had been nearly a year and a half ago. He had arrived in Mirkwood six months thereafter, bringing with him the Gollum creature, but despite how hard he looked, he could not find his friend among the Elf's kin. Later that same evening he learned from King Thranduil that Legolas was on a hunting trip with his cousins and would not return until after Aragorn left. Giving the Elvenking a letter for safe-keeping, the Dúnadan had taken his leave of Mirkwood the next day. He had no idea when he would see him next— _if_ he saw Legolas again at all.

Aragorn gasped, and clutched at his heart as a sudden chilling pain seared through it, feeling as though a knife were being twisted in his gut. What if he never saw _any_ of them again?

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

Unbeknownst to Aragorn, Legolas Greenleaf, Crown Prince of Mirkwood, and his companion, Boromir, Lord of Minas Tirith, had finally arrived at the gate.

The journey had not been pleasant.

Normally, Legolas would say he got along quite well with Men, perhaps better, even, than other Elves. His friendship with Aragorn had shown him that not all humans were cruel and thoughtless cowards that found pleasure in bringing pain and sorrow to others; indeed, only a very few. But the two week journey from Minas Tirith, where he had been sent by his father to guide Boromir (who had never been there) to Rivendell, had tried his spirit to the breaking point.

/Thank the Valar we are here,/ Legolas thought as he called out a greeting to the guards in Sindarin who returned it warmly and allowed them entry. The Silvan Elf was gratified to see that his Human companion looked less sure of himself and even a bit frightened.

Many a fortnight had the prince stayed within Lord Elrond's halls and he was well-liked among the Rivendell Elves. About the only thought that prevented him from falling into depression—for the way was dark and the company cold—was that of once more returning to Rivendell. Though he was not of Elrond's kin, he was welcomed as though he were. Ever since he and Aragorn had forged such a deep, unbreakable bond of friendship, their families, who had for eons never quite seen eye to eye, no longer avoided each other at all costs. Over the years as his friendship grew with Aragorn, so, too, did his father's and Lord Elrond's re-grow and strengthen. Once it became clear that the two rulers were once again friends, members of their households soon began to travel between Mirkwood and Rivendell, and still later, their subjects. And all because of the friendship the two youngest princes shared. Elrond and his own father had even—

/Aragorn!/ that single excited thought shook him out of his reverie, as had the scene his Elf-eyes had picked up, for they were now through the gate and in the front courtyard. A thin scrim of trees, easily penetrated by keen eyes from this vantage point, stood to the far right side of the garden, and just beyond them, standing at the top of a hill, was none other than Aragorn himself.

The Elven Prince, whom had not seen the man since he had entrusted him to the care of a mutual friend at the Halls of Healing in Gondor, sharply reined his horse (which gave a start for Legolas was never one to treat his hooved friends roughly). In a rush, he dismounted, murmuring a calming apology to the horse. Then Legolas turned quickly on his heel and started to break into a sprint in his friend's direction—only to be jerked to a halt as someone grabbed his arm. He knew exactly who it was.

The Elf wrenched his arm free and spun to glare at Boromir. "What is it that you want?" he demanded, patience wearing thin. "I have led you here, and here we shall part company!"

Boromir paid no attention to the quite aggravated Elven Prince. "Where do you think _you_ are headed? And what makes you think you have _my_ leave to go there?"

Legolas would not endure this mistreatment any longer. "Your leave? _Your_ leave! What gives _you_ the right to bid me come or go? What gives _you_ the right to mistreat me? You have no more power over me than I over you! If you think you will pass with such nonsense through these halls, then, Human Lord, turn right back around. Rivendell Elves do not tolerate disrespect, and though I endured it, neither do I, nor my kin!" And with that, Legolas turned on heel once more and continued swiftly and silently on his interrupted path.

The prince half-expected to collide with Aragorn as he crossed the courtyard. Surely the man had heard the commotion…but he did not. And as Legolas ran, the wind whipping the long, golden strands of his hair about his face, the anger, tension, and depression rapidly ebbed away. Pure joy at seeing his dear friend alive and unscathed near overwhelmed him and chased the last of the shadows out of his heart. Right now, right at this moment, little else seemed to matter.

Breaking the trees, Legolas rushed forward. /Ever oblivious,/ he thought in affectionate amusement as he ran lightly the rest of the way to his human friend. The Dúnadan apparently had not heard the argument he and Boromir had had at all and _was_ not aware of the Elf's approach.

A mischievous smile flitted across the Elven features of the prince. He could use this to his advantage.

Legolas slowed his pace considerably as a precaution, not wanting to reopen any of Aragorn's wounds, and without further adieu, tackled the man from behind with a muttered 'Got you!' in Sindarin.

Aragorn gave a cry of surprise as something or _someone_ grabbed him from behind and they tumbled down the slope together. Down and down they rolled, the heather cushioning and slowing their uncontrollable fall, until the man was quite dizzy.

When they at last came to a gentle stop at the bottom of the hill and Aragorn was quite sure he could open his eyes without the world spinning around him, he did so…and started.

Long, soft golden strands fell across his face, sparkling midnight blue eyes mere inches from his own twinkled merrily at him, and a wide grin graced the youthful features of the Elf. "…Legolas?!" he cried in delighted shock.

Laughing, the Silvan Elf pushed himself off of Aragorn whom had landed beneath him and sat back on his heels. 'I got you again, Estel,' Legolas teased the man warmly in Elvish. 'Honestly, how do you expect to survive as a Ranger?'

Aragorn rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 'For your information, I have _survived_ nigh sixty years now. And somehow, you always seem to be there right when I need you, anyway.' The latter part he admitted to seriously and in the soft light of the sunset, Legolas took note of the open warmth on the man's face, so different from Boromir's and yet, not so.

/Does he know then?/ the Elf wondered. 'Estel, did not Mithrandir or Lord Elrond tell you?' he asked cautiously, moving closer to the Ranger.

'Tell me what, Legolas?' Aragorn asked in honest curiosity.

The prince bit his lip, wondering if he should tell the man.

'Legolas!' Aragorn exclaimed urgently, fearing some ill had befallen the Elf.

Legolas took a deep breath. 'You were wounded by Orcs, no? How are your wounds?' Then he gently prodded Aragorn's right shoulder, left thigh, and right rib-cage—all _exactly_ where the Orc arrows, tipped with poison, had struck the man.

Aragorn did not respond, not even to the small needles of pain which blossomed as Legolas tried to determine how far along the wounds were in the healing process. He was too busy staring incredulously at Legolas's bowed head. Surely no one else, save Mithrandir and, he had a feeling, Elrond, could know of his unfortunate run-in with Orcs! Unless…

Before Legolas had time to blink, Aragorn had clasped the Elf's face between his hands. 'Tell me in all honesty, Legolas, was it you who brought me to the Halls of Healing in Gondor?'

The prince gave a small, weak smile, and averted his dark eyes momentarily. ''Twas I,' he spoke softly, remembering all too vividly the moment he'd found him. Aragorn had been half-dead—so unresponsive, so cold, so pale, so _vulnerable_ …

The Ranger watched the dark emotions play across the Elf's fair features. 'Legolas?' he breathed.

The Elf stubbornly shook his head, deliberately clearing his conscious of the nightmarish images. ''Tis nothing, Estel, do not mind me,' Legolas whispered.

Aragorn would have none of it. Gently gripping Legolas's chin, he forced the Elf to look him in the eye. Tears stood in the prince's two as they gazed back at him. 'No, I _do_ mind, Legolas. It tore you apart.'

Legolas gave up. The tears fell. 'You were unconscious when I found you,' the Elf choked. 'At first I thought you were dead, gone to the Halls of Mandos, and then you breathed. Do you know how much that one breath meant?' He was shaking.

Aragorn slipped and tightened his arms around the distraught prince who buried his face against the man, quietly releasing his pent-up anguish into the Dúnadan's shoulder. 'Oh, Legolas! Hush, mellon-nin, hush.'

For a few long moments they remained that way, Man and Elf. Legolas clung to the Ranger with all the strength his travel-weary body, mind, and heart could muster.

Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by the last person in the world Legolas wanted to face right now. "How quaint," a disgusted voice muttered in Westron. "I _do_ wonder what this world is coming to! A Man and an Elf embracing, next we shall be having _marriages_."

The Elven prince groaned softly and felt Aragorn's body tense. A punch would be thrown any moment. The barb had struck deep. 'I would not act rashly, were I you,' Legolas murmured, pulling away slightly and wiping his eyes on the back of his smooth hand, noting the Man's clenched fists.

'Who is he?' Aragorn ground out through gritted teeth.

Legolas knew well that tone of voice. Every time he heard it, the being who spoke the taunt usually ended up flat on the floor, knocked out cold. 'He is Boromir, Lord of Minas Tirith,' the Elf advised quietly, sending a vehement glare over his shoulder at the other Man who remained unfazed.

If at all possible, Aragorn tensed even more beside him. 'Gondor,' he breathed. /It's happening,/ the once-Ranger thought.

'Aye, but of what meaning is it to you-despite your true lineage?' Legolas asked, turning back to Aragorn and looking at him, puzzled and concerned.

'It is something for Ada to explain to you,' was all the Dúnadan answered.

An inexplicable fear clutched at Legolas's heart. ' _What_ , Estel?' he demanded.

Aragorn smiled gently at the Elf. 'Come, it is best we talk with Ada. But first, dry the rest of your tears. I do not need you rushed off to some healing room and treated for some ailment you do not have.'

Legolas chuckled and did so. 'I fear more for _you_ in that case. You somehow always manage to end up injured. Or unconscious. Or in some other situation that is not exactly conducive to your health.'

'It is not _my_ fault I am a walking disaster,' Aragorn grumbled, but it got a laugh, true and pure, out of Legolas, so he did not mind.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

Elrond looked up with an amused smile as the young Crown Prince of Mirkwood burst into his study, striding through the doors with an unwavering single-mindedness that so characterized him when something had gone amiss or it had to do with Aragorn. The half-Elven Lord believed that in this case, it was both.

And speaking of Aragorn…the Ranger came running in just after his friend. 'Legolas!' he exclaimed, out of breath, 'I did not say right at this moment!'

'True, but I wish to know _right at this moment_ ,' the Silvan Elf responded firmly.

Elrond spoke up, chuckling, as Aragorn came to stand by his friend and glowered at him, 'And what is it that he wishes to know?'

Legolas bowed respectfully. 'Please forgive my intrusion, Lord Elrond, but Estel is being extremely difficult.' He graced the man with a mirthful smile and growled affectionately, 'Stubborn Dúnadan.'

'Infuriating Elf,' Aragorn shot back, just as playfully and affectionately.

Elrond could not help his grin. It was good to see the two of them together after so long. Even their very words breathed how much they had missed one another.

'You may jest and tease one another later,' Elrond advised the two young ones, coming forward and embracing a very startled Prince of Mirkwood. Aragorn's smile softened considerably as he watched his Elven father's warm greeting of his best friend and observed the shock of emotions playing across the Silvan Elf's countenance. 'I have need of Legolas presently.'

"As I have of Aragorn," a new voice spoke up in Westron.

Both Aragorn and Legolas turned and exclaimed, 'Mithrandir!'

Gandalf the Grey stood in the threshold of Elrond's study, his mysterious smile tugging at his lips. 'Greetings, young ones,' he replied, easily switching to Sindarin.

'Estel,' Elrond's voice drew the Dúnadan's attention back to the Elf Lord who stood beside Legolas, one arm draped around the younger being. 'I will send Legolas to you later. I think I have a very good idea of what he wishes to know.'

'All right, Ada,' Aragorn agreed, beginning to leave with Gandalf.

'Oh, and, Estel?' Elrond spoke up just as they went through the door.

Aragorn stuck his head back in the room.

Elrond gave him a meaningful look. ' _Try_ not to kill Lord Boromir, yet. I should like a word with him about his views on Elves before you do.'

'Ada!' Aragorn laughed and disappeared out of sight after shooting an amused glance in Legolas's direction. The Silvan Elf, in spite of the many years he had spent as a family guest in Elrond's halls, still was not quite used to this side of the Peredhil.

Chuckling, the Elf Lord turned to the wide-eyed prince at his side. Legolas's expression only heightened his amusement. 'Yes, young prince, I _do_ know how to tease and jest if I want to, even now,' Elrond advised him, eyes laughing.

Legolas nodded mutely, unable to think of a response.

All at once, Elrond's expression turned very grave and Legolas knew that the explanation he wanted was not long in coming. 'Legolas, before I tell you anything further, know _nothing_ binds you to Estel—no oath, no promise, no pledge—nothing, wherever he chooses to go. I am aware you are as much brothers as Elladan and Elrohir are, but the fact remains that you do not have to accompany him.'

Legolas nodded gravely, beginning to understand how very serious this was. 'True, but that decision is mine to make. I would not have it otherwise. 'Twould set me much more at ease if I knew I could be there when he needed me.'

Elrond closed his eyes in sweet relief, for the first time showing openly how anguished and agitated this entire situation had made him. 'Hearing that from you, gives me greater comfort than anything. I know I can trust you, Legolas.'

 _Tbc._


	4. Loyalty's Pledge

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not, nor ever will, own Legolas, Aragorn or any familiar ideas or characters. J.R.R. Tolkein does.

 _ **Rating:**_ T/M

 _ **Summary:**_ Human and Elf, mortal and immortal, Gondor's King and Mirkwood's Prince—perhaps it was not so inevitable that they became friends, after all…-Book and Moviebased-

' _ **Sindarin (Elvish)'**_

 _ **/Personal Thoughts/**_

" _ **Westron/Common Speech"**_

 _.:These Bonds We've Forged:._

 _By Sentimental Star_

 _ **Chapter Three :** **Loyalty's Pledge**_

(An Hour and a Half Later, Imladris's Healing Wing)

Aragorn smiled softly where he sat by the fire as Gandalf finally gave into sleep, like the other two occupants of this particular room, and readied himself for a long night.

The Dúnadan's thoughts shifted to his long-time Elven friend whom, he decided upon further observation of the Hobbit, Sam reminded him of.

According to Mithrandir, the stout little Hobbit had plopped himself beside Frodo the moment he'd arrived and not budged since. Granted, he had dressed in clean clothes, used the washroom, and of course, had something to eat. But he always returned to his seat at his master's side promptly thereafter.

It looked as though he had not been able to stay awake, however. In a bed that was only meant to hold one Hobbit, two curly heads poked out just above the covers and the small stool beside it sat empty.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Aragorn reflected that even the two little ones together did not take up half the bed, whereas when he and Legolas were found like this in the healing ward, one of them usually ended up balanced precariously on the edge.

He suspected, though didn't say, that this was the reason behind the beds in both his and Legolas's quarters being mysteriously replaced with much larger beds than the one the two Hobbits shared.

With a sigh, Aragorn settled back into the large armchair, reflecting on the troubled thoughts that had reared their heads again.

The loyalty and devotion he and Legolas shared ran deep, as did their friendship itself. Within a moment's notice he would rush to aid Legolas if the prince needed him, no matter where he was. This the man knew. But what he also knew always succeeded in sending a thrill of terror straight through his heart—Legolas would do the same for him. That was simply the way of things, _especially_ if one (as he had) entered into such a deep friendship with an Elf. They felt deeper, cherished longer, and suffered harder than Humans, Dwarves, and perhaps even Hobbits.

Aragorn shut his eyes tightly.

And now? Now, what would Legolas do? He was headed into such danger and darkness as no mortal Man should ever have to face. But he would, because he had to. He had no other choice. He could not retreat back to the Wilds because the Ring that Frodo carried was too great a menace for him to ignore, or leave in the hands of others. And when it came down to it, the young Baggins had already endeared himself to Aragorn, and the Dúnadan could not, in good conscience, let him go anywhere alone after having been touched by that foul thing. Two foul things if you counted the Ringwraith.

But Legolas had a choice. If Aragorn knew his beloved friend as well as he thought he did, he could also guess, with reasonable accuracy, what that choice would be.

Just as his thoughts proceeded to veer down an even darker path, the door to the healing room creaked open and Legolas peered into the warm glow, his Elf-eyes immediately locating his human friend. 'Estel?' he breathed.

The Ranger was absolutely sure his mind was not playing tricks on him when he detected a wavering quality to the Elf's voice. That was worrisome in and of itself, but still trying to keep it light, hopefully even cheering the prince, Aragorn remarked, 'I am beginning to think those tales that are told of Elves reading minds are true.'

Legolas slipped into the room and shut the door softly behind him, smiling weakly at its only other alert occupant. The Elf had yet to step fully into the warm firelight that licked the edges of this particular chamber. Another thing for Aragorn to add to his growing list of concerns.

'Legolas, come sit by me. 'Tis much warmer and brighter by the fire,' the Dúnadan advised him gently, gesturing to the chair across from him.

The prince gave a barely perceptible nod and lightly crossed the floor to Aragorn. What the man saw the flames glint off caused him to start from his seat in worry. Tears leaked down his Elven friend's cheeks and sparkled in the firelight, a _very_ rare occurrence. And that it had happened once already this evening…

Only Legolas's slim hand on his arm halted his forward movement. 'Rest easy, I am fine,' the Elf murmured, tear-bright eyes locking with Aragorn's.

The Ranger gave him a look of pure disbelief.

'I am all right,' Legolas repeated firmly, trying to press the Dúnadan back down.

'I beg to differ,' Aragorn muttered, but allowed the Elf to seat him.

The prince carefully (and much to the Dúnadan's surprise) perched himself on the arm of the very same chair Aragorn sat in, cross-legged. In the next moment, the Ranger had lightly tugged the lithe archer to sit directly next to him in the seat.

Legolas leveled his friend of many years with a fondly exasperated glare. 'I told you-' he began.

Aragorn shook his head and interrupted, 'You are _not_.'

'Stubborn Dúnadan,' Legolas grumbled, but he dropped his face into his hands.

It was Aragorn's turn to glare, but it softened in the face of his beloved friend's pain. 'Oughtn't I be calling _you_ that?'

The Prince of Mirkwood made no answer, but the Ranger could detect a slight quivering of his shoulders. Muffled sobs reached his ears as he touched one of the Elf's hands, only to find it shaking as well. 'What did Ada tell you?' Aragorn breathed, knowing of very little which reduced his friend to tears.

Legolas's voice hitched as he struggled for control. 'A-About your…your destiny.'

Silence stretched between the two of them. After a few long minutes, when no verbal response was forthcoming, Legolas raised tear-damp eyes to Aragorn's face.

The Ranger watched him quietly, gaze even, but compassion on his face. "You already knew of it, though," the Human murmured in Westron.

Legolas glared—quite a feat, considering the tears still trickling down his cheeks—and responded in the same language, "Do not trivialize it, Estel. Aye, I know you are Gondor's lost king. _Aye_ , I know what menace is tied directly to your bloodline," Aragorn drew his breath in sharply. Legolas glared harder, "What I did _not_ know was exactly _how_ you were to claim your birthright!"

The man's eyes shied away from his own. 'And Ada told you this?' he murmured faintly in Sindarin.

'Yes, Estel' acquiesced softly, as the fair being reverted to his mother tongue. As the prince gradually calmed down, he quietly related all he had learned in Elvish to his friend.

Aragorn gently brushed away his tears at the end. But instead of allowing the man to draw his hand away, Legolas pressed it against his heart. The Dúnadan raised an eyebrow in inquiry. 'I know not what else lies ahead,' the Elf whispered, 'but you have my solemn pledge that I will not leave your side until you fulfill that which has been laid out before you.'

Aragorn choked, unable to force out anything around the sudden lump in his throat. Legolas had yet to release his hand.

With his free one, Aragorn lightly pulled the prince forward and kissed his brow. 'I would that you shed no tears for me,' the Ranger at last managed, voice thick, as he pulled away slightly. He rested his forehead against the side of Legolas's head. 'I have seldom seen you cry. Nor would I take you from Mirkwood, your home.'

'Do not try to stop me, Estel,' Legolas warned him softly.

' _Me_ try to stop _you_? I would never win!' Aragorn exclaimed quietly, chuckling.

'Exactly,' Legolas murmured, turning to press his forehead against Aragorn's own. 'I will not leave your side until then,' he repeated with conviction.

Aragorn said nothing, merely wrapped his arms around Legolas's slim shoulders. To this, his Elven friend responded by burying his face against the Ranger's shoulder, closing his own arms tightly around Aragorn and shutting his eyes. His long golden hair spilled over the Dúnadan's shoulder as he thought quietly to himself, /Thriondil./

Elf-brother.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

That was how Lord Elrond found them an hour later—the man slept lightly, but the prince was soundly asleep, his midnight eyes unfocused as he wandered the world of Elven dreams, and two heads, respectively light and dark, rested together. The Half-Elven Lord smiled softly to himself as he observed the heartwarming scene in front of him from the door of this room. It only widened when he noticed Gandalf thoughtfully contemplating the pair.

'I trust the young prince is now aware of the circumstances?' the wizard remarked, voice soft enough to disturb none of the sleeping occupants.

Elrond's fond gaze briefly lighted on Legolas. 'Aye, he is. And more than a little shaken.' He sighed. 'Both Estel and Legolas are very aware of what happens when an Elf pledges friendship to a mortal and a mortal to an immortal. With the future clouding and growing ever-darker, even the strength of this friendship which they have forged will be tried. You have heard what my mother-in-law has prophesied, yes?' As Gandalf nodded he moved to stand beside the two young princes and reached out, lightly smoothing the Dúnadan's dark, unruly tresses away from his shut eyes.

'Do the two young ones know of that prophecy?' the Istari asked softly.

Elrond shook his head, unable to wrench his eyes from his Human son's face. 'They do not,' he murmured. 'It is not my place to tell them.'

'Is it Galadriel's, then?'

'Aye. Or Celeborn's. I, myself, know only part of it.'

When the Elven Lord's silver eyes finally raised to meet his, Gandalf winced at the pain in their depths and asked bluntly, steering their conversation on a different course, 'How are you faring, Elrond? You have been in and out of Frodo's room for the past several days, Glorfindel tells me. And have not rested nearly as much as you ought.'

The Peredhil scowled tiredly but shook his head. 'I am fine, Mithrandir. Tired, but fine.' He turned back to Aragorn. ''Tis merely the testing of my resolve that wearies me now,' whispered, 'I would keep him safe forever, but it is not to be. He has grown up, far too quickly for my liking. I have always known he would, always known that I would not have eternity to cherish the priceless gift of his presence in my life, but...' Elrond trailed off, blinking away unwanted tears and shaking his head.

'You do not know that for a fact, mellon iaur,' Gandalf advised him quietly, touched by the Elven Lord's suffering.

Elrond glanced sharply at him. 'What are you saying?'

Gandalf simply smiled. 'Nothing and everything.'

Elrond repressed the urge to roll his eyes as he often saw Aragorn do when Legolas or his brothers were bantering with him. 'Of course, I should have known. Never can get a straight answer, why I even bother...'

Gandalf chuckled. 'Frankly, I do not know why either.'

Elrond favored the wizard with a mock-glare, before turning away to hide his own smile. 'I shall never understand you. And if I may say so, you are just as confusing and infuriating as ever.'

'Why thank you! I would not want to disappoint,' Gandalf responded brightly.

That did it. Elrond laughed outright, though softly. When he turned back to the wizard, his gaze was warm. ''Tis good to see you safe, mellon-nin. I feared the worst when Thranduil sent word of your capture.'

Gandalf nodded. ''Tis a relief to be here.' He nodded once again, this time to Legolas and Aragorn, both who, amazingly, had slept through the entire exchange. 'Would it not be best to send the two young ones to their own quarters? There will not be time for much rest in the near future, I fear.'

'As do I,' Elrond murmured. Gandalf watched as the half-Elven Lord leaned down to press a light kiss to Aragorn's forehead, 'Wake up, Estel. Come, 'tis time for you to return to your own rooms. Estel, hen, wake up,' gently ordered as he lightly placed his hand on the Human's shoulder and carefully shook it.

The Dúnadan stirred underneath his Elven father's touch and blearily opened his eyes. 'Hmm…Ada?' he queried sleepily, not quite awake yet.

An amused smile graced Elrond's countenance. 'Penneth, you are a bit too heavy for me to be carrying you back to your own room. I very much doubt I would be able to carry Legolas, either.'

'He would not let you, anyway,' Aragorn chuckled, coming to full awareness relatively fast.

'Absolutely right,' the prince muttered, having been awoken by Aragorn's stirring. He moved away from the man and stretched, glancing in concern at the Hobbits who also had miraculously remained asleep. 'How are they?' he asked quietly.

Gandalf spoke up, 'They will be fine. Frodo is healing and Sam is simply exhausted. I tried earlier to convince him to leave and rest, but he would have none of it.' When the prince and Ranger looked at the wizard, he smiled and teased, 'Sound familiar?'

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged sheepish glances before looking away, blushing lightly and suddenly very interested in the rug beneath their chair. At this, Elrond took another step forward, laughing. 'Aye, they always _do_ manage to end up in the same room—whether I want them to or not.'

The dark look he received from his human son only caused him to laugh again. In spite of himself, Legolas started laughing, too. 'He does have a point, Estel,' the younger Elf chuckled.

'You are a big help,' Aragorn grumbled, but the laughter of Mithrandir, his adopted father, and his best friend was contagious and he soon found himself joining in. It was quiet enough not to disturb the Hobbits who were by far more worn out than either he or Legolas, but weariness began to creep up on him again and a glance at the prince revealed his friend was feeling the after-effects of his journey, as well.

The exhaustion of the two young ones was not lost on Gandalf or Elrond, who pulled them gently to their feet, slipping one arm around each of them. 'I think I shall accompany you to your rooms, just to make sure you do not fall down on the way there.'

'Aye,' Aragorn agreed, then sent mischievous, albeit tired grin in his best friend's direction. 'But you might want to have a cot placed in my room, so Legolas does not have to find his way from the guest quarters to mine.'

That statement earned him a dark glare from Legolas, but it did nothing more than send the Ranger into a second fit of light laughter.

This time Elrond _did_ roll his eyes. 'Ilúvatar, help us. I had forgotten just how silly you become when you are weary, especially if Legolas is here.'

'If you say so, Ada,' Aragorn snickered. 'But Legolas is worse.'

'WHAT?!' the Silvan Elf in question exclaimed softly, shooting another glare in Aragorn's direction. 'If I am not mistaken, _you_ were the one who _started_ this entire conversation.' But the laughter in his eyes belied his glare.

'For Valar's sake,' Elrond groaned, ' _No one_ deserves the two of you when you are like this!'

That served only to send the two into yet another fit of laughter. Shaking his head in despair, the Peredhil ushered them out the door and to bed.

However, he was unable to hide the slight smile that tugged at his lips. The mirth of the younger ones had lightened Elrond's heavy heart considerably, and temporarily banished his worries and fears. Just for this moment, the older Elf could allow himself to relax.

As the Half-Elven Lord and two friends exited the room, Gandalf watched them go with a slight smile. Much of Elrond's fears were well-founded, but watching the three of them now, the old wizard suddenly understood that somehow everything would turn out right in the end, as hard as that hope would be to hold onto in the coming days.

/Estel,/ Gandalf thought with warm amusement, his mind shifting to the human who had left the chamber mere moments ago. /Hope. I shall have to congratulate Elrond on his choice of names when he returns./

 _Tbc._


	5. Midnight and Morning

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not, nor ever will, own Legolas, Aragorn, or any character or idea that is familiar. I wanted to ask someone if I could buy at least Legolas and Aragorn ::sighs:: but I did not know who. So I guess they still belong to J.R.R. Tolkein. The lyrics to the song "May It Be" are not mine, either, they belong to Enya.

 _ **Note:**_ Chapter 4 is here—edited slightly and re-posted. I hope you enjoy it!

 _ **Rating:**_ T/M

 _ **Summary:**_

' _ **Sindarin (Elvish)'**_

 _/_ _ **Personal Thoughts**_ _/_

" _ **Westron/Common Speech**_ _"_

 _.:These Bonds We've Forged:._

 _By Sentimental Star_

 _ **Chapter Four:** **Midnight and Morning**_

(Five Hours Later)

'Legolas!'

The Silvan Elf shot awake, nearly toppling out of his bed in surprise. Someone, somewhere, had shouted his name.

Rubbing impatiently at the weariness behind his midnight eyes, the Prince of Mirkwood listened hard.

'Legolas!'

There. Faint, but unmistakable. Fear, desperation, those colored the call. And by Valar, it was familiar!

It came again. 'Legolas!'

The Silvan Elf nearly choked as his heart leapt into his throat. It was not just any person who had cried out for him it was…'Estel!' he exclaimed, throwing his covers off and stumbling to his feet in the softly lit chamber. Without waiting to so much as grab a light, the Elven prince launched himself through the door and pelted down the corridor towards Aragorn's room. Legolas paid absolutely no mind to the darkness pressing in around him, nor did it hinder him. He knew the halls of Rivendell almost as well as he did those of his own home in Mirkwood, especially this path between the human's quarters and his own.

Within minutes the prince had reached the Ranger's door. He paused momentarily with his hand on the doorknob, feeling a sickening sense of déjavù. Had he not been here before? In this same exact situation?

'Legolas!' came the cry once more, this time somehow strangled.

Fumbling with the white and golden knob in his haste, Legolas shoved the door open and quite nearly toppled into the chamber. Blinking in the dim light, his piercing eyes darted around the room before at last coming to rest on the large bed. Its human occupant thrashed wildly, moaning. Aragorn…was having a nightmare.

Legolas slumped against the door which he still held onto, making a mental note to kill his friend for scaring him so much once the Dúnadan awoke the next morning, but his anxiety did not lift.

Long ago Lord Elrond had told him of these "nightmares," repressed memories from the slaughter of his home, of the deaths of his parents. Other times they were of memories later on in his life, cruel memories which no one should have to relive at night.

'Legolas.' His name was alien, so broken was the voice that breathed it.

His heart wrenching painfully, Legolas swiftly made his way to the distraught human's side. As soon as Legolas's cool hand cupped Aragorn's cheek, the Human's thrashing abated somewhat. Moving the slim appendage to rest on his friend's forehead, the Silvan Elf found himself torn between desperately wishing he had Lord Elrond's gift to put to sleep even the most stubborn of creatures and wondering if the fact that it was an _Elven_ hand, at the very least, could help banish the nightmares, even if only temporarily.

Carefully lifting the Dúnadan's upper torso and supporting the man, Legolas sat on the edge of the great bed and moved slowly to sit behind his friend. The bed was long and wide, longer and wider than either he or Aragorn, and it made it that much easier to do as he wished. The Elf eased the man down until he could cradle Aragorn's head in his lap. Smoothing the dark hair, he leaned close and murmured, his words Sindarin, 'It is all right, Estel. I am here. It is I—Legolas. You must wake up, mellon-nin. You are having a nightmare.'

The Ranger tossed his head, whimpering.

Legolas's voice cracked. 'Please, Estel!'

Aragorn tossed his head again, obviously too caught up in the dreams to surface from unconsciousness.

The prince pressed his forehead to his best friend's, tears unbidden rushing to his eyes. He furiously blinked them back. He would _not_ cry again! Unfortunately, that only served to cause his voice to waver even more as he whispered brokenly, 'I cannot stand this.'

Unable to think of anything else to do, Legolas began to sing, voice choked and hushed:

' _May it be an evening star_

 _Shines down upon you_

 _May it be when darkness falls_

 _Your heart will be true_

 _You walk a lonely road_

 _Oh! How far you are from home_

' _Mornie utúlië_

 _Believe and you will find your way_

 _Mornie alantië_

 _A promise lives within you now_

' _May it be shadows call_

 _Will fly away_

 _May it be your journey on_

 _To light the day_

 _When the night is overcome_

 _You may rise to find the sun_

' _Mornie utúlië_

 _Believe and you will find your way_

 _Mornie alantië_

 _A promise lives within you now_

' _A promise lives within you now'_

To Legolas's great relief, the Dúnadan's tremors slowed and finally stopped altogether as the Sindarin words entered his tormented psyche and registered. No longer did he whimper or cry out, nor did the tears flow or his friend toss and turn any longer. 'Estel?' the Silvan Elf at last ventured to breathe, pulling back and cradling Aragorn's head as the human gradually relaxed.

The Ranger mumbled something incoherent as Legolas lightly soothed his forehead, turning to dig his face into the Elf's chest. Shortly thereafter, Aragorn fell into a blissfully deep and dreamless sleep. In turn, Legolas relaxed, releasing a heavy sigh and resting his head against the headrest behind him.

Soon, his eyes went unfocused and his lids fell to half-mast as he at last gave into sleep.

IOIOIOIOIOI

It was Lord Elrond's soft laughter which woke Aragorn the next morning.

Peering sleepily over his covers at his Elven father, reluctant to move from where he lay, he growled thickly, 'Aye, Ada? What is so funny?'

Laughter in his voice, Elrond asked in amusement, moving from where he had been standing in the doorway to his foster son's side, 'My dear Estel, what in Middle-Earth am I to do with you two?'

'Two?' Aragorn responded, still not quite awake yet, brow furrowed in confusion. He was aware of someone's hands cradling his head and his pillow felt naught like a pillow at all. He tried to remember what had happened. He thought he had had a nightmare, but he could not be sure. Someone had sung to him and…

Elrond was still chuckling. 'Mayhap I _should_ have a cot placed in your room for Legolas. But you know,' and his silver eyes glittered with mirth, 'that bed _is_ more than wide enough for the two of you. I imagine sleeping upright must be very uncomfortable.'

'It is,' a sleep-thick voice replied.

Aragorn started. Where had Legolas come from?

The Elven Prince's hands dropped from the human's head and moved to rub the sleep out of midnight eyes—to no avail.

As Aragorn lifted his head out of Legolas's lap and sat up on his elbows, tilting his head back to stare up incredulously at his best friend, Elrond wanted to know, amusement still evident in his voice, 'And might I inquire why you are here _this_ time?' His grin had not wavered.

Aragorn wanted very much to know the same thing.

'Forgive me, hîr-nin, but the reason currently escapes me,' Legolas muttered, trying to force his mind to remember what had transpired the previous evening. He _had_ fallen asleep in his own quarters, of that he was absolutely certain. Then…then…the Silvan Elf shook his head in frustration, once more rubbing at his eyes.

' _Mornie utúlië/Believe and you will find your way/Mornie alantië/A promise lives within you now_ ,' Aragorn sang softly, dredging up the words from…somewhere, as the refrain and melody drifted through his mind. The Ranger shook his head, confusion flitting across his rustic features. /What in Arda…?/ he wondered, bewildered, shaking his head again.

Legolas stilled.

Elrond looked sharply at his youngest, his surprise clear. 'Estel, how is it you remember that lullaby?'

'I know not, Ada. Why?' the Ranger responded, looking to his foster father as his confusion tripled.

Elrond's hand strayed to his human son's head and his voice quieted as he smoothed the unruly dark strands, lost in memories of years past, 'When you were very young, no more than a toddler really, I used to sing that to you to keep the nightmares at bay. It always seemed to calm you—I believe your mother used to sing it to you when you were a babe.' Pain evident on his features, the Half-Elven Lord pressed, 'Estel, did you have a nightmare again last night?' It worried and distressed him that he had not heard his son's cries.

Before Aragorn could reply, Legolas spoke up, 'He did. He called out for me in his sleep.'

Elrond was silent. At any rate, he now knew why Legolas had been in Aragorn's room. Looking closer, he noted the red tint to the prince's midnight eyes.

Aragorn abruptly sat up straight, gazing wide-eyed at Legolas. ''Twas you,' he whispered, 'you sang to me.'

Legolas offered a small smile. 'I knew not what else to do.'

'You did the right thing, Legolas,' Elrond assured him, smiling warmly at the young prince. His eyes suddenly twinkled. 'Although I must say, I was rather hoping you would remain in your own quarters for at least one night.'

'With Estel here?' Legolas shook his head and grinned at Elrond. 'Not likely!'

Elrond chuckled at the prince's words and at the glare Aragorn threw his fair friend. Well, they were back to normal at least—although "normal" for the Dúnadan and the Silvan Elf was a relative term. He kept laughing as the two bantered back and forth.

'What is _that_ supposed to mean!'

'You heard what I said. With you around I can _never_ seem to get a good night's sleep!'

'That's not true!'

'Oh? Name one time, _one_ time, where we slept straight through the night without any complications.'

'The hunting trip we went on when I was twenty-three.'

'If I remember correctly, Estel, you were unconscious. That night I did not sleep at _all_.'

Elrond laughed, 'Valar take both of you! You _deserve_ each other!'

' _Hey_!' came the chimed response, setting the Elven Lord to laughing again.

At which point, the mirth and banter was interrupted by a knock on the wall. 'My Lord Elrond?' a soft voice inquired.

Smiling, his heart once more lightened by the two princes' teasing, the half-Elven lord turned and acknowledged the servant with a warm nod. 'Yes?'

'My Lord,' the _elleth_ advised him, 'the young Hobbit has awoken.'

Relief flashed in Elrond's dark eyes, 'I am glad to hear it. Please inform Mithrandir I shall be there shortly.'

The _elleth_ gave a slight curtsy and left.

Elrond turned back to Legolas and Aragorn—who were watching him intently—with a slight smile. 'If you are quite through, I suggest you both wash up and change. You may join me if you wish. I am sure you are very familiar with where I am headed.'

'Ada!' Aragorn protested as Legolas broke into a soft peal of musical laughter.

Elrond's smile broadened. 'Yes, Estel? Is there something you wish to say?' he asked with barely concealed mirth as his human son floundered for a response. When none was forthcoming, he inclined his head. 'I thought not.' He walked out of the chamber.

In Aragorn's room, Legolas had finally calmed down completely from last night, sweeping the residual worry to the back of his mind as he laughed at his best friend's rather rosy countenance.

'And what are _you_ laughing at, Elf?' Aragorn grumbled playfully, if somewhat sheepishly. 'You have been in the infirmary at least as much as I!'

'Yes.' Legolas's reply was mirthful. 'But only because I was trying to prevent _you_ from ending up there. I wonder, are all Men so clumsy or is it just you?'

'I am sure Lord Boromir will be more than glad to tell you,' Aragorn retorted. Only when the words had left his mouth did he realize just how poisonous they were.

Legolas's entire demeanor altered. 'Yes, I am sure he would,' the Silvan Elf growled darkly, abruptly turning away. Neither had moved from where they sat on the Ranger's bed.

Aragorn knew that something had gone very wrong between the two, remembering the tension in his friend much earlier yesterday evening as he held him, and from what he had seen of the Man, he was not surprised. It angered him, to say the very least. But anger would not help Legolas. Reaching out, he grasped the Elf's arm gently. As Legolas turned hurt eyes to him, Aragorn murmured simply, 'I am sorry, mellon nin. I should have realized how you would react.'

Legolas nodded, accepting the apology. 'He is not like you,' the prince admitted softly.

Aragorn nodded. 'Do you wish to speak of it?'

'If I did, not even Lord Elrond would be able to prevent you from harming him,' Legolas replied quietly. 'He does not like Elves, Estel.'

'So I noticed,' the Dúnadan muttered, rubbing his face.

Legolas offered him a tiny smile. 'Worry yourself not, mellon nin. It has passed. And I do believe we shall have a very impatient Mithrandir on our hands if we do not go soon.'

'Then leave so I can get changed!' he laughed, giving the Elf a gentle shove.

The Elf's tone turned teasing again as he stood. 'Mithrandir is not the only impatient one around here.'

'Oh go away,' Aragorn quipped good-naturedly, playfully swatting at the prince.

Once again Legolas's musical laughter rang out in the room as he danced out of the Human's reach.

Aragorn's eyes twinkled as he listened to Legolas's wonderful laughter. He doubted he would _ever_ tire of hearing it and it did the Silvan Elf good to laugh. This was why he so often engaged the prince in warm banter—it made any troubled situation that much easier to bear.

The Dúnadan smiled and shook his head slightly. It was during moments such as this that he knew everything would turn out all right in the end—in one way or another. 'Hannon lle, mellon nin,' Aragorn whispered, raising fond eyes to his friend's once again cheerful countenance.

Legolas was caught off guard and his laughter subsided as he gazed curiously at the Human. 'Whatever for?'

'For last night and for all the nights you have watched over me. For being my friend,' he elaborated, voice tender.

The smile returned was priceless. 'You are welcome, mellon nin. More than welcome.'

 _Tbc._

 _ **Sindarin Translations:**_

 _Elleth:_ She-Elf

 _Hannon lle, mellon nin_ **:** Thank you, my friend.

 _Hîr-nin_ : My lord

 _Mornie utúlië_ **:** Darkness has come.

 _Mornie alantië_ **:** Darkness has fallen.


End file.
